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Weekly Contest #281
In a season full of twinkling lights and rosy cheeks, there exists a bubble suspended in time. Frost covers the dark, wet ground underneath the feet of two people. Nothing about this moment is significant to anyone in the world, except for the shadowy figure squatting unceremoniously between the juniper bushes. The icy breeze brings tears to her eyes, at least she tells herself it is from the wind. Janice presses her palms firmly against her temples; her mind, normally bustling with sound, repeats the same shrill note. The wind starts ...
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